Talking To Myself
by st.elmo-lover
Summary: Harriet's fresh out of rehab and living in Stockley Hall to the dismay of her very close four best friends, the Mercers. Everything's fine until she meets Bill Darley and the woman she called her second mother gets murdered.
1. Tired of the Sunset

**EDIT: This first chapter was updated on 07-19-09 because I plan on updating soon and thought the first chapter could use a few touch ups.**

**Author's Note: So ya'll gotta let me know if you like this or not. I'm just now trying out my part at the Death Sentence world of fanfiction so I'm not sure if I'll be able to stay true to the characters. Input is much appreciated.**

_Cinderella's on her bedroom floor  
She's got a crush on the guy at the liquor store  
Cause Mr. Charming don't come home anymore  
And she forgets why she came here_

"Are you gonna sell it to me or not, Rick?"

She gave a half hearted sigh to try and lessen the glare she was giving the old man in front of her. But she knew nothing could really weaken its severity. She was too determined to get what she wanted and what she wanted was two bottles of vodka.

"It's five o'clock, Harry! Isn't it a little early?" His voice was almost pleading but her glare didn't go away.

"You know it's illegal. You're underage and I could get in trouble for selling you this crap. And you could get in trouble for drinking it." Her glare leveled even more and the old man let his gaze drop to the liquor in front of them and then to the door when it admitted another customer. Harry didn't bother to turn around though. There was no way she was going to relent.

"You've never gotten caught before and I've never gotten caught before. You've never not sold me liquor!"

She wondered how many never's it would take before she got her point across.

"Harriet, you're like a daughter to me. I don't want to see you go down this road."

She sighed inwardly. He was breaking out the full names which meant it was going to take a few more never's.

"I've been going down this road for the past six months-" She didn't get to fit another never in. He cut her off.

"Does Eliot know you moved to Stockley Hall?"

Her mouth fell open for a split second before her glare returned.

"He's my fiance Rick, not my fucking father!" she snapped. "Besides," she went on, "he's not gonna know because no one's gonna tell him. He's not gonna know because he's never around to know!"

"What if something happens to ya? Stockley's not a safe place."

"So what? What would Eliot do about it? You and I both know he wouldn't care." There was a familiar burning in her eyeballs and she squeezed them shut, wishing he would just sell her the liquor already.

"Don't say such things, Harry!" Rick said. "He loves you or he wouldn't have proposed."

"If he loved me he wouldn't be staying with his girlfriend right now and I wouldn't be livin' in Stockley."

"If you weren't an alcoholic you wouldn't be livin' in Stockley, you mean," Rick fired back.

"I'm not an alcoholic, Rick! I just like my liquor every once in a while!" There was an undertone to her voice she hoped would go away.

"Every once in a while's everyday?" He had noticed her undertone and picked it out as a lie. "When's the last time you ate, Harry? You look like a sack of bones! You're spending all your money on alcohol instead of taking care of yourself."

She blanched again. He was actually acting like her father!

"I don't-"

"Just sell her the fucking alcohol, huh, Rick? Jesus!"

Harry turned, her dark brown eyes connecting with the most beautiful green. Her hands automatically rose to rub at the purple bags under her eyes. Just one look at this man made her self-conscious in a way she hadn't been in six months. He made her feel a fear she hadn't felt in months, too. He was at least a foot taller than her 5'2 form with a great muscular build and a smoothly shaven head that begged her to reach out and touch it. What looked to be some sort of tribal tattoos crept up his arms to his neck and probably all the way down to his waist. She wouldn't have minded if they did. She just wanted to trace them with her fingers anyway. And she would have bet her liquor that he was hiding a six pack under that tight black long sleeve shirt. Even as Rick started to ring up her liquor she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She wondered, if six months ago, when she was normal, if she ever would have met him. And for just one glimpse of his beautiful ice blue eyes she thought maybe everything else that had happened was worth it.

"30.75," Rick snapped in a clear tone. He was obviously sore about getting told what to do but there seemed to be almost a fear glowing in his eyes for this bald stranger.

She dug around in the deep front pocket of her cargos and came out with...six dollars and two cents. That was all she had left. The 2,000 dollars she had had six months ago was officially gone now and she was screwed.

"I'll pay you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully. Maybe just a little too hopeful because he was glaring at her now.

"What're you gonna do? Go out and rob a bank?"

Harry forced a smirk that she didn't really feel.

"Nope. I was gonna pickpocket a few people. I used to be able to do it when I was younger."

She doubted she could do it now though. She had lost her touch when Eliot had taken her out of the slums and put her in a life of luxury and paid for everything she needed and a few things she wanted. She supposed she could have started up again six months ago when she found out about his girlfriend on the side but she had started drinking instead. And then she had moved to Stokley when Eliot hadn't come home in more than two weeks strait.

"The more I hear come out of your mouth the more I want to pop you in it," Rick grumbled as he started to shove the vodka in a brown paper bag.

"Yeah, well," she told him, a satisfied smirk on her face, "you're not my father."

She gave him a nod as she gathered the brown sack in her arms and headed towards the door. The weight of the bottles was comforting in her hands and she couldn't wait to get outside just so she could crack one open and get her fix. She had finished off the last of her stuff last night...or was it early that morning? Hell, she thought, I can't even remember.

The door gave a tingle as she stepped through it and into the cold December air. It was a huge contrast from the heat that Rick had had going in the liquor store and it made her shiver.

If she hadn't of spent all her money on liquor and cigarettes, she could have bought herself a winter jacket because the spring one she was wearing now just wasn't cutting it for her. But then again, what was the point of buying herself a heavier jacket when she really didn't care if she got sick and died?

Right, she agreed to herself, no point.

She stopped on the corner next to liquor store to finally crack open one of her vodka bottles. The paper bag rustled for a few seconds as she struggled and then she was holding the cool clear liquid in her hand. It felt good to know she was going to be able to drink herself into a stupor again. She wanted to forget, forget everything that she had ever done wrong in her sad excuse for a life.

She finally stuck the bottle to her lips and took in a long few gulps and when she was done she let a silly and content smile spread across her face. She could still feel the familiar burning in her throat and even in her stomach, as she leaned against the building.

She heard the familiar tingle of the liquor store door again and turned to see the bald man from a few minutes ago.

He had a twenty-four pack of beer under his arm and a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. She realized with a sad frown that with her sudden brokenness, she wouldn't be able to afford to smoke now either.

But she shook the idea off when she realized the bald man was staring at her with his icy eyes. He looked so cold and rugged standing there that just the thought of what he was capable of gave her the chills. She wondered how many people he had killed. She wondered how many people he had threatened or beaten within an inch of their life. She had grown up on the streets after all and being engaged to a rich boy hadn't changed her street smarts.

This guy in front of her, with his tribal tattoos and his cold expression, was probably in a gang, maybe even a leader. And around these parts, gangs weren't to be messed with. They sold not so pleasant shit and they did even less pleasant shit. Gang initiations probably being the least severe. She had heard of worse. Gangs did just about anything they wanted as long as it amused them and gave them something to do.

"Fucking alcoholic."

She heard him mutter as he finally made his way towards what she could see was his car. His car had the same symbols on it that he did, anyway, and if that wasn't an indication of ownership she didn't know what was.

"Yeah, fuck you, too," she said, louder then she had intended. And she watched in fear as he stopped and turned towards her a little. "You think you're so much better than me?" She went on. She had nothing to lose anyway, nothing to live for. Why not go out by the hand of some feared gang leader? "Fucking drug dealer. I wonder how many lives you've ruined. I wonder how many people you've killed," she spat out the last part and then she was pushing herself off the wall. Her feet took her in the direction of Stokley as her hands pushed her bottle back into its bag. She was going to see how long she could last without drinking anymore of it. She had to save it up, she told herself. She didn't have any more money left and Rick wasn't going to just keep giving her alcohol.

She was on the floor at the foot of her twin sized bed and the hardwood floor was cold on her skin. It felt good, almost like it was the only thing she could feel. But that was the expected feeling. She didn't _want_ to feel anything anyway.

The only thing she was feeling at that exact moment, besides the cold, was despair at the fact that she only had half of her first bottle left and it was only two in the morning. She still had the rest of the night to get through or at least the amount of time it would take her to finally pass out from lack of sleep or maybe even lack of food.

She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. She drank. And drank. And drank some more. It was what her life revolved around these days. The only thing she wanted, the only thing she needed, was to block out the pain of her own unworthiness. She hadn't been good enough for anything in her life, after all. Not good enough for her boyfriend, not good enough for her father, not even good enough for herself. She had expected so much more out of herself after all. So much more then this drunk mess she had become and yet here she was.

No matter how much she hated herself for doing it, she couldn't stop drinking. She was just too addicted.

It took her a few minutes to catch on to the insistent knocking on her door but it only took her a few seconds to decide she wasn't going to get up and get it. Anyone coming to her door at two in the morning was stupid. Besides, she told herself, I'm way too tired to get up and get it. The only thing she could really bring herself to do was to mumble out a complaint that the person at the door couldn't possibly have heard.

As a few more seconds ticked by, the knocking finally stopped. The next thing Harry knew, she could hear the sound of the door banging against the wall and the sound of heavy footsteps floating down the hallway.

"Harry?" a deep voice called. She sighed heavily, licking her lips as she looked at the bottle. Maybe she was close to passing out and just hearing things. That's what it is, she told herself.

But the footsteps continued down the hallway and before she knew it a pair of nice leather shoes was standing in front of her line of vision.

"Harry?" the deep, familiar voice asked again. She slowly raised her head up as best she could but it felt like she was holding up a ten pound weight instead of her own head.

Eliot, her now (probably) ex-fiance, crouched in front of her, his eyebrows raised and his green eyes cold.

"Let me guess," his voice was just as husky as she remembered it being and his blonde hair was just as shiny. She remembered running her fingers through it when they were lieing in bed. She remembered washing it when they were in the shower and joking with him about how his hair looked better then hers. She remembered.

And she wasn't supposed to.

And she didn't want to.

"You're drunk," he finished as he fingered her second liquor bottle. He was spinning it on the floor now and the noise it was making was just downright annoying.

"Yes," she said proudly. "I am. Now stop spinning that damn bottle." She reached out to grab it, but he avoided her and stood up again. His chuckles were the only thing she could register for a minute.

"When I got a message saying that _my_ fiancé was living in Stokley Hall, I didn't believe it. And then I went home for the first time in weeks to find all of your stuff gone." He let out another laugh but even in her drunken state she could tell it was forced.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He spun around quickly and the expression of pure anger on his face was enough to make her cower. Even his voice had gone a couple of octaves lower.

It took her another few minutes to get herself together again and gather some courage. When she was finally done though, she pulled herself up to look him in the eye.

"Fuck you," she spat out. "Go back to you whore, ASSHOLE!" She screamed the last part as loud as she could, not even caring that she lived in apartments now and that other people were around.

The next thing she knew the bottle was flying through the room and smashing in front of her. Her hands flew up automatically to cover her face. She could feel the tiny pieces of glass hitting her arms and it made her gasp.

"You mind keeping the fucking voice levels down?" A roaring voice screamed as heavy footsteps made their way down the hall. She slowly let her arms drop down to her sides, hissing when glass dug into her palms.

She watched the door expectantly for the guest that had barged into her apartment, not even paying attention to Eliot who stood angrily in the corner.

It was the bald guy, she realized a few seconds later with horror, the bald guy from the liquor store. His nostrils were flaring and his bald head was gleaming in the moonlight that spilled through her window. He was wearing the same jeans he had been wearing that day but he only had a beater on now and his tattoos were on show along with his bulging muscles.

"Excuse me," Eliot bit out, roughly, "I'm trying to have a conversation with my fiancé here."

"Ex-fiance." Harry corrected him without thinking, her anger getting the best of her. "You honestly think I would marry you after you cheated on me with who knows how many girls? You're such an asshole." She picked her half full vodka bottle and chucked it at him, watching as it shattered against the wall between the new comer and Eliot.


	2. New Beginnings

**So, I finally updated. And you're in for a surprise. I was reading this story today and suddenly got inspired again. I got inspired to do something else as well. This fic is now a crossover with Four Brothers!**

It had been a while since she had been back to this place. About two years now. She had only spent a few weeks here, at this tiny little apartment on the bad side of town, but for some reason, this place was where she felt the most connection. Maybe it was because this place was where she had gained her freedom from her fiancé or maybe it was because this had been the place where she had come to the conclusion that her life had fallen apart and that she needed to piece it back together.

Either way, she was back for good now. She was determined to make it work here. There really wasn't another option. She couldn't ask her mom for any more money and there was no way she was going to get a good enough job that would pay for a better apartment. She had tainted her clean criminal record with a charge of drunken disorder and conflict. There weren't many high paying jobs that were going to take a woman with a criminal record.

She was resigned and she didn't mind it. She didn't need anything fancy, nothing expensive. As long as the dead bolt on her door worked she was going to be fine. She was going to make it work.

After her encounter with her ex-fiance and her next door neighbor, she had made her decision. It hadn't been quick or easy but she had made it. It had taken her another couple of days to get up the courage to go visit her mother. She had been a mess, her clothes all stuck to her, no winter coat, hair greasy and messy. But her mother was still her mother. She had agreed to pay for Harry's time in rehab and a cab to get her there. So she had given her mother a hug, gotten in the cab with nothing but the clothes on her back and had gone to rehab, a tiny little place on the outskirts of Detroti that was worth more than it should have been but got the job done. She had been there, at rehab, for almost a year. And there she had met quite a few characters.

The most memorable and the most loving had been Jack. He was a few years younger than her but had come from much the same background. The only difference was that Jack had been an orphan for most of his youth. He had been beaten and abused for seven years before he had been taken in by one Evelyn Mercer, Detroit's saint. His past, however, had caught up with him at an older age as he started to remember everything that had happened to him before he had come to Evelyn's. And he had done everything to drown out those memories again. He had tried every drug under the sun and every kind of alcohol. He hid it well but as soon as his older brothers and Evelyn had found out, they had pooled their resources and sent him promptly to rehab.

It had been there that the two had met and learned everything about each other. It was there they formed a sibling bond that neither of them every wanted broken. Jack's friendship had made the year go by quick and had made recovery easier as well. It was Jack that was there for her when they had finally given Harry the privilege of seeing visitors and the first one that had shown up was Eliot, her ex-fiance. It was Jack that told her she didn't have to go back to him, didn't have to listen to a thing she said. It was through Jack that Harry met her second family, the Mercers.

Somehow, Jack had swung a deal with a nurse so that Harry could come with him to the visitors' room when his family came to visit. For the first few months, it had been all of Jack's family that had come, his three older brothers (all adopted) and his mother Evelyn but as the year went on, his three brothers all left home to find their own lives. His eldest brother Bobby left for Boston to do what no one was sure of. He only said that he needed to get out of Detroit for a while. His second eldest brother Angel had left for the military, saying that there had to be more to life than the slums and back streets of Detroit. It was Jack's other brother Jerry that settled down in Detroit with a girlfriend that he eventually proposed to.

Jack's face had fallen more and more with each visit. It was rough on him, not being able to give his brothers a proper goodbye when each of them left him and Harry was there for him. She dried his tears when he wondered if any of them cared for her and she gave him hope.

When it came down to it, Harry was scheduled to be released before Jack. The two, however, could not bear to be parted so quickly. It was then that Jack convinced his mother to let Harry move in with them for a while, just until she got her feet back. Evelyn had welcomed the young girl with open arms and treated her just like the rest of the family. And Harry had slept in Jack's bed at the Mercer household until Jack had also come home from rehab.

When he arrived back at the house, there was a surprise party waiting for him (without alcohol). And it was to Jack's surprise that all three of his brothers had come back to congratulate him on making it through the program. It had been the least Harry could do. She had called all three of them, the toughest guys to get a hold of, and had begged them to come back. Bobby had been the hardest to get back but eventually he agreed under the pretense that he really didn't know the next time he was going to get to see his little "fairy" again.

The welcome home party had been a wondrous occasion, a time when Harry really did feel like part of their family. It had been a time when a connection was made between all of them, a connection that was not going to be easily broken.

In the morning, the family had hugged and said their goodbyes, and Harry and Jack watched as the other three left home again. Angel back to base camp, Bobby back to Boston, and Jerry backed to his apartment with his fiancé.

Harry had stayed with the Mercers, Jack and Evelyn, for six more months after that.

And then Jack had decided to leave home as well, to chase his dreams of being a rock star.

But Harry just didn't have the heart to go with him, to leave Detroit. And that's when she made the decision to return to Stokley Hall.

"Yeah ready, girl?"

She turned to look at Jerry who was carrying one of the bigger boxes of the stuff they had packed for her. She nodded slowly before pulling her key out of her pocket and heading for the two front doors of the apartment building.

"I really wish you wouldn't stay here," Jerry continued, "This place is seedy as hell." She watched as Jerry looked the building up and down and then turned to look down the street. She had to agree with them. Stockley was in one of the seediest neighborhoods of Detroit. She had realized this when she had first rented the place out. She also had to admit now that its seediness was what drew her in the first place.

"It's fine, Jerry. I'll make it by for now. I promise and as soon as I get enough money I'll find a better place to live." She smiled at him and pulled the door open. The smell of urine and weed filled her nostrils and made her nose itch.

"Damn!" Jerry exclaimed as he walked in. He immediately began inspecting the graffiti on the walls and shook his head. "You know you don't have to live here. Mama don't mind you staying with her at all. She likes having someone in the house with her."

"I know, Jerry, but I need to get out on my own. I need to make sure I can handle the sober life. I can't stay in the protective cocoon Evelyn creates no matter how much I like it." She started up the steps, looking behind her every once in a while to make sure Jerry was still following.

"Bobby would shit if he saw this place," Jerry continued. Harry realized that was all she was going to hear out of him for the next five minutes. All he was going to talk about was how bad this place was and how she should move back in with Evelyn. He would probably say anything he could think of to persuade her to change her mind.

"Well, Bobby's not here." She couldn't help but sound a little bitter about it either. Bobby was…different than the other brothers in a way she just couldn't explain. Jack would always be her favorite, that was true, but Bobby was important in a different way.

"I promise to call and check in, like I said. I'll call you and Evelyn every week. I just really need this Jerry. I need to know I can stand on my own two feet again." She stopped and turned to Jerry. She really wanted him to see the hope and need in her eyes. She really wanted him to just stop talking about how crappy her new apartment building was.

"Alright," he agreed with a sigh and a nod.

Harry gave him a small smile before she continued up one more flight of stairs. "It's just down this hallway," she called back to Jerry. They were two doors down from hers when they both heard a loud thump and then muffled screaming. It only took a few seconds for the screaming to get louder because the source of the screaming had just swung open the apartment door right next to Harry's.

A tall, bald man stood in the doorway, almost too large for the frame. Harry recognized him as once, even without hearing his voice.

"I told you to get down to the fucking corner. How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself, you good for nothing piece of shit?" He was on the phone, but the conversation didn't last for long. After a few more curse words and unfriendly pieces of advice, the man snapped his cell phone closed and turned to slam his door behind him.

Harry could feel Jerry pressing protectively against her back as the large stranger turned to walk down the hallway. When he saw Harry and Jerry, he paused in his steps and gave them both a once over.

It lasted a few seconds before the stranger sniff, turned up his nose and continued down the hallway again.

"Doesn't know who he's fuckin' with," Jerry muttered after him. Harry almost smiled. What stopped her was the fact that the Mercer brothers were past their time of rule. This younger, taller looking man that lived beside her had probably never heard of them before. It had been years since the Mercer brothers were all together and causing havoc and mayhem on the streets of Detroit. It had been a different neighborhood, too. The Mercer brothers had grown up on the West side and this was the south side. The south side was a whole different kind of trouble. Where the west side had more mafia, the south side had more gangs and territory battles. This place wasn't what the Mercer brothers were used to but that wasn't saying the Mercer brothers couldn't handle either.

"It's fine, Jerry. As long as I don't bug him, he won't bug me. It's not the first run in I've had with the guy."

All she got from Jerry was a raised eyebrow and snort.

A few hours later found Harry alone in her apartment unpacking her last box. Most of what now graced her apartment had come from Evelyn. They were either hand-me-downs or brand new things that Evelyn had gotten her. Evelyn had done a lot for her since Harry had met Jack, almost too much. But each time, Evelyn said she was only giving Harry what she deserved for all the things Harry had gone through in life. That's what made Evelyn the Saint of Detroit.


	3. She Has People

"I can't believe you're working at a fuckin' gas station."

"Hey, I don't like it anymore than you do." Harry struggled to open the front door of Stokley Hall while talking on the phone and carrying a bag of groceries. She tried to hold the cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed the door handle and just barely got it open before her cell phone started to slip away. "It's a job, Bobby. That's all I can say. I'm tired of taking advantage of your poor mother. She bought me this track phone, you know."

She let the door slam closed behind her and tried not to gag at the fresh smell of piss in the front entry way.

"Come on! You know ma doesn't mind one bit! She would rather pay for all of your shit than have you working at a fucking gas station. You know how much those things get hit up? A lot more than you fuckin' think. They don't put every gas station robbery in the paper, you know."

Harry sighed into the phone and shook her head even though Bobby couldn't see her. "I know she would but how many times do I have to tell you guys that I need to be out on my own for a while?" She tried her hardest to take the steps two at a time. She really didn't want to take all night getting up the stairs after spending a whole day on her feet.

"Yeah, yeah," Bobby answered. She could hear the irritation in his voice and wished she could do more to sooth his worrying. There really wasn't much she could say, though. Bobby had probably been involved in a few gas station robberies back in his day. He had done a lot of stupid shit before Evelyn set him straight and even a few stupid things after, too.

"Just tell me you'll keep lookin' for somethin' else. I want this to be a temporary situtation."

She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration but continued up the stairs.

"What other kind of job do you think I'm gonna get? If you want me to have a legit job then you're gonna have to be ok with me working at a gas station. That's about as legit of a job a person with a record can get. They tell us in rehab that people will think we're strong for overcoming our addictions but they're wrong. People take one look at the record, ask what happened, and when everything is on the table they just say thanks but no thanks." She hoped Bobby could hear the frustration in her voice and drop the subject.

"Try harder. There's gotta be somethin' out there—"

"Oh shit!" Harry squealed as she tried to dodge the random man that had just come tumbling down the stairs. She tried to press herself as close to the railing as she could get but the man's leg still caught hers and she began to tumble after him. She did her best to hold onto the cell phone but dropped her grocery bags as soon as her body started falling. It felt like forever before her body finally stopped rolling. Her body slammed into the drywall surrounding one of the landings and she let out a loud grown. When she could finally see straight again, she lifted a hand to rub her aching head.

"Harry? Harry? HARRY!" She slowly opened her eyes and began to scan the floor for the source of the voice. She found her cell phone a few inches away from the man that had brought her down with him and quickly snatched it up with a glare in his direction.

"I'm here," she groaned slowly.

"What the fuck happened? I was about to jump on a fucking plane to come get your ass! Don't fuckin' scare me like that again!" He began his tirade right away.

"This guy came out of nowhere! He was falling down the fucking stairs! His leg caught mine and I ended up falling with him." She groaned again and straightened out her legs in front of her. Nothing seemed to be broken. Her head was just killing from the collision it had had with the wall.

"Fuckin' idiot!" She looked up at the sound of the voice that definitely didn't belong to Bobby. At the landing above her, where the man next to her had probably fallen from, a large bald figure was making his way down the stairs.

"Correction," she told Bobby, "He was pushed down the stairs by that guy who lives on my floor." She shook her head again and turned her head to look at the guy next to her. He was also bald and looked Mexican in origin. He had a few visible tattoos and she came to a quick conclusion that he was probably a gang member.

"What do you mean he got pushed?" Bobby's voice registered with her again and she turned back to the conversation. "What guy on your floor?"

"I'll talk to you about it later," she said quickly, "He's coming down the stairs right now."

"Don't hang up on me!" Bobby protested loudly. "I want to know what the fuck is going on."

"Really, Boddy, I'll call you later," she said right before she closed her phone and looked up. The tall bald man had made great time getting down the stairs and was now standing right in front of her. He gave her a quick once over and must have decided she wasn't worth his time because his gaze moved away from her and to the other bald man lying next to her in a groaning heap. She shook her head quickly and began to push herself to her feet.

"He run into you or pull you down?" It seemed like a stupid question to her but she didn't say anything.

"His leg caught me on his way down. I tried to avoid it but it didn't work out…" she trailed off, not sure what else to say and it was then she remembered she had had a bag of groceries with her. She let her eyes travel up the stairs one by one and cursed when she found various items all over the place.

"Great," she muttered as she began to walk up the stairs. Her muscles gave some protest but she ignored them. She bent down to pick up the first item she found, her jar of peanut butter, and then continued up the stairs to her next item.

"Heco, you fucking idiot, I told you to be on the corner five fucking hours ago! And what do you do? You show up six hours later at my fucking apartment!"

The white bald guy was yelling as he bent down to pick up his friend. When his friend was finally on his feet, the white bald guy shoved him into the wall by the throat.

"Whenever you don't fucking work, I gotta put up with the bullshit Bones puts out. Get to the fucking corner and stay there all night. I don't want to see your face again till tomorrow night and you better bring me back some fucking money." He dropped his hand from his friend's throat but then grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down the rest of the stairs. When he turned back around, Harry pretended like she hadn't been watching.

She could hear his footsteps as he started walking up the steps and her heart sped up. She again tried to press her body as close to the hand railing as possible and a few seconds later he walked by her and then continued to walk up the rest of the stairs.

"Thanks for your help," she muttered lowly. She snapped her mouth closed instantly afterward and flinched, hoping he hadn't heard her words. She realized he had, though, when his footsteps came to an abrupt stop. She looked up to find him staring down at her, the meanest, angriest look on his face that she had even seen. She hadn't even seen that bad of a look from Bobby when he was mad at her for something.

"You say something?" He asked harshly. He was challenging her to say it again and she immediately decided she wasn't going to.

"Nothing," she squeaked quickly before breaking their eye contact and quickly bending over to retrieve the rest of her groceries. It was at least another minute before his footsteps could be heard again and she hoped he hadn't been watching her the whole entire time.

When she looked up again she nearly screamed to find that he hadn't gone up the stairs like she had thought, but down the stairs until he was standing only one step above her.

"You just moved in?" He said it in the form of a question even though, she guessed, they both already knew the answer.

"Yeah." She cleared her throat in an effort to sound more confident. "I live a few doors down from you actually…" she trailed off and crossed her fingers that he didn't think she was stalking him or something. There was just something about him. She was pretty sure she would never forget him even if she tried.

It was a few seconds longer before he nodded. He moved to rest his hands on his broad hips and she flinched away from the movement. Who could blame her?

"There are a few things you gotta know about this building." He leveled his stare at her even more and wanted to bunch up in a ball and hide. "You see somethin', you don't say nothin', especially to the fucking cops. There's a lot of shit that goes on here but it goes on without a fuckin' hitch. I own this fucking building." He got closer to her as he said the last sentence and she really cowered then. "Don't get on my bad side."

He seemed to be satisfied with his little speech but he looked her up and down again, gauging her reaction.

"I've got people," she said, before she could stop herself. She realized how stupid she sounded but there was no way she could just stop there. "If something happens to me, or I get hurt in anyway, I have people, and they'll find you." At least she could say her last statement with confidence. It was true.

If something happened to her in this God forsaken building, if someone hit her or even tried to harm her, all she had to do was mention it to Bobby, or Jack, or Jerry. They would all protect her in an instant. It was part of the bond all of them had formed over the past six months or so.

As if on cue, the door downstairs opened and slammed shut. Harry took her eyes off of the bald guy long enough to look down the staircase to see Jerry. She sighed with relief by accident. She was glad he was there, very glad. If she had been in a different situation, she would have been mad at Bobby for calling in reinforcements but at this point in time, Harry could only be happy.

"Jerry!" She called down to him. She watched as he looked up at her, glared, and then started to run up the stairs.

"You are in so much fucking trouble," he began but stopped when he saw the man standing in front of her, her ripped plastic bag, and her arms full of groceries. "What's going on here?" He put on his best tough guy act and moved closer to Harry.

The man started to glare at the both of them at the same time and Harry was torn between fear and confidence now that Jerry was there. He certainly wasn't the strongest of her four best friends but he could still hold his own.

"Just a casual conversation," the bald guy said easily. He didn't move from his position on the stairs and that made Jerry intensify his glare.

"You Darley?" Jerry said suddenly. The bald man looked at him sharply and his chest seemed to puff out with anger. "Yeah, I know about you." Jerry continued. "She's got people. And we like to know where she's livin'."

Darley, as Jerry had called him, turned his anger into a wide, sadistic smirk. "Yeah, she said that."


	4. Smokin' Gun

"I promise I'll try and make it to Thanksgiving," Harry said as she moved in to give Evelyn a hug. "I'm still the newbie at the station so I got stuck with the shitty hours." She gave Evelyn a gentle squeeze for good measure before letting go. Jerry had driven her to the South side so she could see his mother and she was glad for it. The past few weeks had been spent alone in her apartment and at work. She had never really been bothered by it before, but being alone now almost made her feel like doing something bad was inevitable.

She just really wished she had someone around to let her know that she was still on track and still doing the best she could and Evelyn had done that for her tonight. Jerry and the other men were doing their best over the phone but it just wasn't the same. Going back every night after work to an empty apartment was just a kick in the stomach. Most of the time she was alone was spent worrying about how bad she had fucked up her life and how things would never get back to how they used to be.

"You just be careful. You know me and the boys don't like you staying in that apartment. It worries me, you riding the bus late at night…" Evelyn trailed off.

Harry guess it was because Evelyn knew she didn't have to mention all the awful things that could happen to Harry late at night when she was on her way home from work. Harry knew about the risks and planned accordingly for anything bad that might happen. She tried to keep a pocketknife in the back pocket of her jeans at all times. And the gas station had a shot gun under the counter her boss had told her she was supposed to use if anyone came to rob them or even just tried to hurt her. Besides looking like a complete asshole and having the greasiest hair ever her boss actually wasn't that bad.

"I know, Evelyn. I promise once I save up enough money I'll move out of the neighborhood and try and get a better job." Harry gave her the brightest smile she could even though she didn't believe anything she was saying.

Harry really didn't think she was going to be able to save up enough money to get anywhere. She could barely save up enough money to buy a new shirt. She was getting minimum wage at the gas station and even working full time only barely covered the rent she had to pay on her apartment.

"Well, I'm here if you need me. And Jerry, too. The other boys would be here for you, too, if they could be."

Harry took that as a sign Evelyn didn't really believe her either but shrugged it off. She knew Evelyn wasn't trying to upset her but just look out for her. She really didn't need any more reminders of how badly she had screwed up her life, though.

"Like I said, I'll try my best to make it tomorrow. I just really doubt they'll let me leave early. I think you'll just have to save some turkey for me." She gave Evelyn a large smile. She really didn't want any more reminders of where she was going to be spending the rest of her life or how she was going to spend it. She just wanted to try and live day by day and make it to tomorrow. That's pretty much all she could ask for as a recovering alcoholic. She had to admit that every day was a struggle. Every day she wanted to pick up a bottle and wash away all her troubles and worries and oh how easy it would be to do just that.

She could still remember Rick who owned the liquor store down the street from Stockley. At one point in time he had been like a father to her. He had always put up a fight when she had gone to buy alcohol and had even given her food a few times she had been in there. She wondered what he thought after the first two weeks he didn't see her. She realized then that he probably thought she was dead somewhere in a ditch. He probably thought she had finally drank herself to death. For a few wayward seconds she thought about dropping in so he could get a good look at the new her and then she realized that would be a big mistake. She couldn't just walk into a shop full of her worst addiction.

No. She would give him a ring sometime at the shop. She was almost positive the place was listed in the yellow pages of the phonebook and she could use the track phone Evelyn had bought her to call him. She would try tomorrow, she decided, just in case.

"I'll save you some turkey either way," Evelyn was saying as she walked Harry to the door, Jerry following behind like a lost puppy. She wondered if any of the boys felt like she was stealing their spot light but quickly brushed the thought aside. They were like family to her. They most definitely didn't mind. All of them had been in a situation like hers before.

She kissed Evelyn on the cheek one more time and said her final goodbyes before she lead the way to Jerry's car. She shivered when she took her seat on the passenger side. She really hated leather in the winter.

"So I guess you didn't tell your mom about the incident a couple weeks ago?" She asked Jerry when he finally got in the car. She hadn't really spoken to Jerry about the incident since it happened and she hadn't wanted to either. It just gave him another excuse to bitch about her living in such a bad place. He didn't have to remind her how seriously hurt she could have been, either. She had replayed the situation over and over again in her mind, particularly the part where Jerry had not told her beforehand that she was living next to a drug dealer and gang lord. She had asked Jerry how long he had known and his simple answer had been "awhile". He had also told her that he had heard of the Darley gang and how ruthless they could be.

If the show Darley had put on in the staircase was any indication, Harry didn't doubt it. She had seen how badly that Darley character had treated that guy. You didn't just throw a guy down a staircase unless you really meant business. She had definitely learned that from a few of Bobby and Angel's stories.

"No, I didn't say anything. She doesn't need another reason to worry about you and frankly neither do I." Jerry wasn't looking at her. He was already sticking the keys in the ignition and starting the car.

"Whatever, Jerry. We've had this conversation too many times to count. I really don't want to have it again." She sighed and slumped down in her car seat. She was getting this same speech from everyone in the Mercer family and it was getting old really fast. She had had to talk to Bobby about it for hours the other night. Bobby had cursed her up and down and then told her that he just wanted to look out for her and that she was important to him and his family. She had told him how sweet it was but that he could go to hell for trying to dictate her life and her choices. He hadn't liked that and it had started a whole new fight between them.

"Fine. You know how all of us feel about it and I guess it's pretty apparent you're just gonna let us worry."

There it was. He was skipping right to the guilt part of the speech. He was trying to guilt her into moving by telling her the whole Mercer was worried about her. She knew for a fact that it wasn't true, though. All of the Mercer boys had other lives they worried about, Angel with the military, Jack with his non-existent rock star career, Jerry with his wife and kids, and Bobby with whatever the hell he was doing in God knows where. It wasn't like any of them were sitting up worrying about her all the time. Even Evelyn had other things to occupy her thoughts with like helping out the neighborhood kids and keeping them out of jail.

"Don't try the guilt thing, Jerry." She stopped him before he could start. "It's not going to work. I know you guys don't worry about me 24/7. I also know you guys know that I can take care of myself."

She could hear Jerry sigh and could see him slump a little in the driver's seat. She had won this battle but this battle was only one out of hundred more she would have before the new year began.

"You want a ride tomorrow?" Jerry quickly changed the subject and Harry turned her head to look out at the snow covered ground.

"Nah," she said, "Like I said I don't know if I can make it. If I can I'll just catch the soonest bus over here and walk to Evelyn's." She didn't turn her head to get Jerry's reaction. She already knew what it would be anyway. It would just be another one of those disappointed looks that said he wished she could make a better decision. But that was just it. She couldn't. She didn't have the option to.

"That Darley guy give you any more trouble?" Another change of subject. It seemed like anything the pair talked about today was leading to a fight.

"No. For the most part he stays quiet. Sometimes I can hear him yelling through the walls but I'll just turn the TV up louder. He keeps to himself mostly. Except for that one time," she added with a nod of her head.

"Good," she heard Jerry mutter as he finally turned onto her street. "Alright," he said when they stopped in front of her apartment building. "I hope I'll see you tomorrow but if not give me a call. We can set up a time for me to take you back over to get that left over bird." He gave her one of his big toothed smiles and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks, Jerry," she said lowly, her smile slowly falling. "I don't think I have to tell you how much this means to me."

"No, you don't." Jerry agreed with that same smile. "You're family, girl!" He added with a laugh. He unbuckled his seat belt and held his arms out in her direction.

She did the same and let him engulf her in a bear like hug, or at least the best one he could give sitting down.

She waved goodbye to him when she was finally standing at the doors and watched as he pulled away from the curve. When he was out of sight, she let out a long sigh.

Alone again. How wonderful.

She hated this life, she realized, but she still had it so much better than so many other people.

That thought was reiterated when the doors opened behind her. She spun around and was met with the cold gaze of one of Darley's men. He glared at her for a few seconds before also turning around. She realized then that Darley himself was standing behind his gang member. She blanched for a few seconds but quickly recovered. She didn't want to show any weakness in front of him. She was better than that, had been taught better than that by Bobby.

"Well, look who it is," Billy said as he walked further away from the doorway and stuck a cigarette in his mouth.

Harry tried to glare the best she could. "I don't want any trouble," she said as she shuffled from one foot to the other. "Let's just continue living peacefully next to each other, ok?" She made a move towards the door but Billy blocked her.

"I don't know," he said lowly, an evil yet playful glint in his eyes. "I think making things tough for you would be fun. Might liven things up a bit."

"I don't think so," Harry found herself saying with a sneer. "You can barely keep your own guys in line. What makes you think you can take me and my protectors on?" She wanted to cringe at her words once they were out of her mouth but stood tall. She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say but she couldn't take them back now. She could only fain confidence and hope he would leave her alone and not hit her.

"You got a mouth," Billy said. The glint from his eyes was gone and was replaced with a glare and pursed lips. It almost looked like he was considering something. "You must get that from those friends of yours," he continued. "But you better keep your mouth closed around here. People don't talk to me like that in my neck of the woods."

Harry tried not to cringe again.

"You've said that before," she said softly, finally looking down at her feet. At this point she just really wanted to get inside. She was exhausted from everything that had happened. Dealing with Evelyn and Jerry's worry for her was a daunting task.

When she looked back up again, Darley and his friend were making their way towards a black Mustang, both silent and cold looking. She sighed heavily and reached for the doors.

When she had finally made it the flights of stairs to her door, she relaxed a little bit more. All she could think about was a warm bath in candlelight and a nice long night of sleep to make her worries go away for a few hours.

As she turned the key in the lock and opened her door, a chaotic movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Seconds later she was being pushed into her apartment forcefully and then falling on her ass by the door. It all happened so quick she could barely see and then when a fist connected with her face, she definitely couldn't see. She struggled for a few minutes as her attacker got on top of her and started to try and wrestle her arms to the ground. She fought with all her might and finally managed to reach into her back pocket. She pulled out her pocket knife and without further hesitation plunged it into her attacker's stomach. She heard a loud, pain driven groan and squeezed her eyes shut when her attacker's full weight fell on her and the knife was shoved deeper into his stomach.

When she finally realized he wasn't moving anymore, she used all her strength to roll him off of her. He lay on the ground next to her motionless. She was able inspect him for a few minutes before a scream grabbed her attention. A second attacker was headed her way. She screamed and used her hands to pull her backwards as fast as they could. As soon as she thought she was done for, a gun shot rang through the air. She watched as the guy coming at her slumped into a heap on the floor next to the other and looked towards the door in complete shock and wonder.

To her complete and utter surprise, Billy Darley was standing in her doorway holding a smoking gun.


	5. We'll See About That

She held her pocket knife closer to her even though blood dripped from the blade. The hand holding it was shaking but she couldn't seem to calm herself. She had just killed a man in cold blood and witnessed another being shot in the head. There were actually brains splattered against her mocha colored walls. She slumped further down the wall. She had never been one to cry but at that exact moment she couldn't think of anything better to do. What was she going to do? How was she going to salvage this? It seemed like she was just getting her life back in order. She was finally over her addiction and she had gotten into a rhythm at the gas station.

And then this happened.

And she didn't even know why.

Harry took a look at the pair of dead thugs on her living room floor but quickly looked away again. They were both black and both had bandanas wrapped around their faces to cover everything but their eyes. It was obvious to her that it had been a planned attack. They had been waiting around the corner for her. If they had wanted to rob her they would have just busted the door in and took what they wanted. No. This was personal.

This was personal and she had no idea why. She hadn't done anything to anyone that she knew of. It just didn't make sense. She wasn't even important to anyone in any gangs or mafias.

"So you want to tell me why I just shot some black fucker in my apartment building?"

She had forgotten about Billy, forgotten that he had saved her life. What if he hadn't been there? She would be cold and dead on her living room floor instead of the two large men. She choked on her answer and had to cough to clear her throat. What was she supposed to tell him anyway? She had no idea why the two men had tried to kill her. She didn't know why someone would go through the trouble of finding where she lived and waiting for her to get back.

"I don't know," she managed to say, which apparently wasn't the right answer. Billy slammed his fist into the wall, the one that wasn't still holding his gun.

"Don't fucking lie to me. You know how much trouble I have to go through to clean this shit up?"

She wanted to puke. What had she gotten herself into? She was attacked by one gang just to get saved by another. She knew how these things worked. She would be in Billy's debt now. He would expect something from her especially if he was going to clean up after her mess in her own apartment.

"I'm gonna make a call and when I get back you better fucking be ready to tell me something." His nostrils flared at her and she shrunk in on herself even more, pulling the pocket knife dangerously close to her chest.

Making a call didn't sound like such a bad idea. If she could get a hold of Jerry and Bobby before Billy came back, they would be able to contact someone else to help her clean up the mess. And they would both be able to figure out why she had been attacked and by whom. They would protect her. And she trusted them more than she would ever trust Billy.

She looked around the living room floor, gagging when she laid eyes on the large pool of blood in the middle of the room. She found her cell phone beside the bigger man's body; the one Billy had shot in the head. She quickly crawled over to it on her hands and knees, never letting go of her pocket knife. She avoided the blood on the floor as best she could and turned her eyes the other way when she got closer to the body. She really didn't want to see the inside of the black man's head. She let her hand grope around the floor wildly until she felt her cell phone under her fingers. She snatched it up without hesitation and flipped it open.

She hit the one on her speed dial and quickly put the phone up to her ear, hoping to hear Jerry's familiar voice any moment now. When all she got was his voice mail she hit the end button on her phone in frustration and then hit the number two on her speed dial. She heard the ringtone immediately and began begging to the higher forces that Bobby would answer.

"What's up, baby girl?"

"Oh, God!" She didn't know if she said it in fear or in celebration but as she said it she felt a tear fall down her cheek.

"What?" Bobby was alert and immediately no longer sounding tipsy. "What's going on?" His voice had a sharp edge to it and Harry took comfort in it. That tone of voice meant he was ready to do anything for her.

"I was attacked." She didn't really know how else to put it. "They were waiting for me outside my apartment."

"Who was?" He was angry now, not just alert but about to go into a fit of rage.

"These two black guys. They were wearing bandanas over their faces. I swear they were waiting for me. It wasn't just a coincidence." She tried not to break down into a fit of sobs. She just wished Bobby was there with her, to put an arm around her and tell her everything was going to be okay and that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

"Alright, I believe you. What happened to them?" It sounded like Bobby was moving. For a few seconds the sound of music came through the receiver and then faded out and then she could hear wind.

"I s-s-stabbed one of them," she stuttered and then cursed at herself. "I carry a pocket knife with me."

"Good girl," he said lowly and she knew he meant it. He was proud of her for taking care of herself. "And the other one?"

"Shot. And not by me. I need your help," she took a deep breath. "I know you know I live next to a gang leader, Bobby. He shot him. Billy Darley shot the other black guy. And now he's trying to get people to clean up the bodies. I'm scared, Bobby. I don't know what he'll do."

"Fuck!" She heard Bobby curse loudly into the phone. There was silence on the other end for a minutes before she heard a loud bang, almost as if Bobby had punched something. "You stay put. I'm gonna call Jerry and get back to you, ok? He'll be over as soon as he can. I'll make sure of it."

"Bobby, please," she found herself saying, even though she didn't want to. What had she gotten herself into? She had never been involved with anything like this before. "I killed a guy!" She found herself saying.

She didn't get the chance to say more or to hear Bobby's response. Her phone was ripped from her grip a few seconds later and she flinched and whirled around screaming. She landed in the pool of blood sitting next to the bodies but she tried to ignore the sticky feel of it under her hands and focus on the big, bald, intimidating man in front of her.

"Who did you call?"

"My family," she answered before she could stop herself. She moved her hand up so that it was holding her pocket knife in front of her. His eyes laughed at her. His eyes told her her little pocket knife wouldn't help her when it came to him.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He flipped the phone open and began to check her call list.

"The Mercers," she answered without thinking.

"Are they why you're in this fucking mess? Am I cleaning up their fucking mess?" His nose flared again and Harry took that as a sign that he was very, very angry.

"No. I promise." She hated the way her voice had a tone of begging in it. "They don't know why I got attacked. And I don't either."

"I still don't fucking believe you." He stormed towards her and she swung the knife at him out of instinct. She watched almost in slow motion as it cut through his shirt and into his skin, leaving a large, seeping gash in its wake. He wasn't fazed even a little bit and continued to grab her by her arm and hall her up. He slammed her against the nearest wall and ripped the knife out of her hand just as her phone began to ring.

"Jerry," he read out loud as he looked down at the front screen of her phone. "Who is that?" He demanded, shoving her harder into the wall.

"He's a friend of mine."

"A friend? What do you mean a friend?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. If this guy really didn't know what friends were then she thought she'd have a tough time explaining it to him. "His mother takes care of me," she opted to say instead. "She's basically a saint. She adopted four of the most fearsome boys in the system years ago. Jerry was one of them."

"The Mercers?" Billy guessed. Harry nodded her head quickly.

"Please, you have to answer. They're gonna get really worried. And then they're going to come looking for me." She tried to wrench herself out of his grip but he was too strong for her.

"You're not goin' anywhere until I know what the fuck is goin' on and why I just killed a guy for you." He tightened his grip on her arm and few seconds later he was pulling her behind him and toward his own apartment.

"You didn't have to kill him for me," she protested, dragging her heels.

"Yeah, you're right."


End file.
